Caring
by spaceman-earthgirl
Summary: John gets injured and Sherlock decides to take care of him. Johnlock.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is my first chapter fic so please let me know what you think.

John gets injured and Sherlock decides to take care of him.

EDIT: I'm reposting this with corrected grammar.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

* * *

Sherlock and John were yet again chasing another criminal through the streets of London. They had ended up on a fire escape overlooking an alleyway with the murderer already on the ground below, running around the corner at the end of the alley. Sherlock jumped and after a seconds hesitation John followed. Sherlock landed easily and took off running again only to hear a loud crash behind him.

He turned in a slight panic to see John sprawled on the ground clutching his ankle. He'd landed wrong on his foot and ended up tumbling into a row of bins that Sherlock had narrowly missed himself. Sherlock rushed to his friend's side.

"John," he said, worry clear in his voice.

"Don't worry I'm fine," replied John, before continuing, "quick Sherlock, you have to go, he's getting away".

"No John, just hand me your phone," said Sherlock and before John could protest the detective had snatched the phone from his bloggers pocket.

John concentrated on the pain in his leg while Sherlock made a quick phone call to who John assumed was DI Lestrade.

"Well?" John asked once Sherlock had hung up the phone and had slipped it into his coat pocket.

"Don't worry, Lestrade was waiting ahead as planned and they got him. He wanted me to go to Scotland Yard now with all the evidence but I told him it'd have to wait until tomorrow. Come on, let's get you home," and with that he bent down, wrapped an arm around Johns back and hauled him to his feet, supporting John against his side.

John was surprised at the warm feel of Sherlock's arm wrapped tightly around his back. It was comforting to have the detective so close to him. He could feel Sherlock's breath on the side of his face as his flat mate told him he was going to get a cab.

Getting into the cab was awkward but they managed to get in without too much hassle or further injuring John's leg.

The cab took them both back to Baker Street where Sherlock helped John out of the cab supporting him against his side again. They made their way slowly up the stairs, Sherlock practically dragging John, while John just cringed in pain, although he only thought his ankle was sprained.

They were both glad that Mrs Hudson appeared to be out at the moment. She had been less than happy the last time one of them had come home injured and had made them promise that they would be more careful next time. Neither of them wanted Mrs Hudson to find out that they had broken their promise.

Sherlock helped John onto the couch where he spent the rest of the evening with his leg propped up with ice on it.

Sherlock was being uncharacteristically nice, offering to make John tea and he asked if he needed anything else before he headed into the kitchen to work on his experiments.

x0x0x

John woke the next morning to sounds of Sherlock moving around in the kitchen.

"We're out of milk," Sherlock said as he walked into the living room, having seen that John was awake.

"I didn't want to wake you last night," Sherlock continued, "I thought you would be more comfortable down here with your leg and all..."

Sherlock's voice trailed off and he looked nervous. Nervous? Since when did Sherlock get nervous? John was now eyeing the detective suspiciously, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

"John, I..I just wanted to say...you know...about your leg...I ..." Sherlock said, trailing off, while gesturing to Johns leg.

Saying sorry was uncommon for the detective and even though he never actually said the word, John could tell he was genuinely sorry.

"It's fine Sherlock, it wasn't your fault and besides it's only a sprain", replied John while wondering why the detective was apologizing for something that wasn't his fault and why Sherlock was acting like this. John had been injured before while chasing criminals throughout London with Sherlock so why would Sherlock feel the need to apologize this time?

"Anyway," said John, seeing the uncomfortable look on Sherlock's face, "I better go get some milk since we're out plus we're running low on food."

John tried to stand but put too much weight on his injured foot and with a yelp of pain stumbled forward crashing into Sherlock who had to steady him.

"Here, I thought you could you this," said Sherlock, reaching down beside the couch, still keeping a firm grip on John, and pulled out John's old cane.

Taking the cane, John took a few practice steps around the living room. Sherlock could tell by the look on Johns face that he was remembering the last time he had to use his cane, when he'd first returned home from Afghanistan, before John and Sherlock had met.

"Shopping," said John, snapping out of his reverie, remembering why he had gotten up in the first place.

"Don't worry John, I can do that, you just rest your leg."

Yet again Sherlock was being uncharacteristically nice.

"I'm sorry but I can't trust you with the shopping. Last time you came home with nothing but tea and you were gone for hours," said John, smirking at he hurt look on Sherlock's face.

"At least let me come with you then."

"Fine, but that means you're carrying the bags," replied John as he grabbed his wallet and coat and made his way over to the door, leaning heavily on his cane.

Shopping with Sherlock, thought John, this was going to be interesting.

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AN: Planning on writing 4-5 chapters for this. Next chapter will be about John and Sherlock shopping together and will include Sherlock meeting Johns old therapist. Thanks for reading and reviews are much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed/favourited/alerted/read the previous chapter. It really means a lot. Let me know what you think of this chapter.

John gets injured and Sherlock decides to take care of him.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

* * *

John never thought that the day would come when both he and Sherlock would be out doing the shopping together, it's the sort of thing a couple would do. He stopped, confused at the thought that had just popped into his mind. Where had that come from? Him and Sherlock a couple? He was straight and he had no idea what Sherlock was, "married to my work" he had once said. So why was John thinking of them as a couple? He couldn't help but think back to the previous night when Sherlock had had his arm wrapped tightly around his back, the feel of Sherlock's warm breath against his cheek and..

He stopped himself. What was he thinking? Him and Sherlock? He quickly shook the thought from his mind, aware that his cheeks had turned a very red colour.

"What?" asked Sherlock, who had been watching John closely as a blush had crept up his face.

"Nothing," John quickly replied, his face reddening even more, "come on, don't forget the milk."

Sherlock went to retrieve the milk while John went to find some of other items he had scribbled down on a shopping list.

"Hello John," said a voice behind him. It was a female voice and one that he recognized.

John turned around and was greeted by the smiling face of his old therapist Ella, although she did keep glancing down at the cane gripped firmly in his right hand.

"Good to see you again John, how have you been?" continued Ella but still kept eyeing the cane suspiciously.

"Not too bad yourself?" replied John, smiling warmly at his former therapist.

"I've been well thanks. Your leg?" Ella questioned bringing up the topic that had obviously been on her mind since they first started talking. "I thought your limp has gone, that's why you stopped coming to therapy?"

"Oh no, this isn't psychosomatic, I sprained my ankle yesterday and Sherlock suggested that I use my cane to help me walk."

"Sherlock's your flat mate isn't he?"

"Yeah he is, and he's around here somewhere," said John, looking around trying to find his tall friend.

He spotted Sherlock coming out of one of the aisles, arms full of various food items, none of which were milk.

"No," said John firmly.

"Please", Sherlock begged.

"No Sherlock, go put it all back".

"Please John, it's all for an experiment".

"I said no so go put it away," said John pointing back in the direction Sherlock had come from.

"Fine," mumbled Sherlock, sulking as he turned away but he stopped noticing the woman standing next to John.

"Sorry about him he's just in a mood because..." said John turning his attention back to Ella but Sherlock cut him off mid-sentence..

"John, what are you doing talking to your old therapist?" enquired Sherlock, looking her up and down.

"Sherlock be nice, this is Ella, Ella this is Sherlock."

John had long ago given up asking how Sherlock knew things like that and just accepted it but Ella was new to the deductions of Sherlock Holmes.

"How did you know I was his therapist?" she asked, evidently confused.

"It was easy...", Sherlock began but this time he was cut off by John.

"Sherlock there's no need to show off," the look on Sherlock's face clearly said that there was always a need to show off but John continued, "he's a consulting detective, he works with the police to help them solve crimes using his observation and deduction skills," he said turning to Ella, hoping that Sherlock would keep his deductions to himself.

"We work with the police John, we, as in both of us, together."

"Yeah but you solve the crimes, I just blog about it".

"Yes because you're _my _blogger," he said emphasizing the word my, a smile playing on his lips.

John liked it when Sherlock claimed him as his. He quickly pushed the thought away hoping it wasn't evident on his face.

"Still writing the blog then?" enquired Ella, bringing John back to reality, back to the fact he was standing in a grocery store, shopping with Sherlock and talking to his former therapist.

"Yeah, now I have something to write about," he said, flashing an involuntary grin towards Sherlock.

"Milk Sherlock?" said John, trying the hide the blush that was creeping up his face again.

"Right, yes of course John, I'm sorry," he replied, turning with arms full of food to go and retrieve the one item that had caused them to venture to the store in the first place.

John stood staring after Sherlock as he left, trying to figure out what was wrong with his flat mate. He was apologizing again? Something was definitely not right.

"I thought you said he was just your flatmate? How long have you two been a couple then?"

John turned back to Ella, shocked at what she'd just said. Although most people assumed they were a couple, he never expected her to be one of them.

"What? No, me and him? No, we're not a couple, we're just friends," but John's mind couldn't help but wander to the possibility of what if? What if he and Sherlock _were _a couple? He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts that kept appearing in his head. Maybe he'd knocked his head last night? That would certainly explain all the weird Sherlock related thoughts that kept popping into his mind.

He realized that Ella was still standing in front of him, waiting from him to say something else. The sceptical look on her face clearly said she didn't believe a word John had just said.

He was about to speak again, to find some way to prove they were not a couple when Sherlock appeared again, this time with an armful of different food items. This time at least some of the items he was carrying were on their shopping list.

"Sorry Ella, I've got to go, Sherlock basically needs supervision when he's out in public," said John shaking his head.

"It was nice seeing you again John, take care," and with a little wave of her hand she turned and left.

"Honestly is milk so hard to get?" asked John realizing that none of the items in Sherlock's hands were milk yet again.

Sherlock spun, his coat spinning behind him, leaving John to quickly follow after him, which was difficult with his injured leg.

The next hour consisted of John hurrying after Sherlock as Sherlock picked up anything he could get his hands on asking John if they could buy it, claiming it was for an experiment. John always said no even after Sherlock pleaded saying that the experiment was important.

They paid and left and neither of them realized that in the bags Sherlock was carrying home, none of them contained milk.

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AN: Next chapter will be about john having to hide from Mrs Hudson and they still need milk. Thanks for reading and reviews are much appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed/favourited/alerted/read the previous chapter(s). It does really mean a lot. Let me know what you think of this next chapter. And to any of you who are interested I'm currently working on a Mystrade fic which should be up in the next few days/when this fic is complete.

John gets injured and Sherlock decides to take care of him.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

* * *

John and Sherlock had just arrived home from shopping, having placed the groceries in the kitchen, when they heard Mrs Hudson call from downstairs.

"Boys, is that you?" she called causing John and Sherlock to look at each other in panic.

She couldn't see that John had been injured yet again, not with the way she had reacted last time.

"You're room, now, before she sees you," whispered Sherlock, pointing John in the direction of the stairs leading to his room but it was too late, they could already hear Mrs Hudson climbing the stairs.

If Mrs Hudson saw John's injured ankle she would not only be very cross, they _had_ promised that they would be more careful, well as careful as you can be while out chasing criminals, but she would insist on looking after John.

Even though it was only a sprained ankle, Mrs Hudson would still insist on taking care of him. Last time had been bad, when Sherlock had come home with a large cut on the side of his head, covered in blood. The time before that was even worse, when John and Sherlock had both nearly been shot, stabbed and run over all in the course of one evening, returning home bruised and with a mixture of their blood and the criminals all over their clothes.

They both loved Mrs Hudson and she treated then like her own sons but sometimes she was just too much. She meant well but she was a little over protective sometimes. Last time Sherlock had been hurt she'd insisted on caring for him, checking on him regularly and it had driven Sherlock crazy, she didn't let him leave the house for a week.

She wouldn't take no for an answer and despite the boys protests she did everything for them even though John was capable of doing it all himself, he wasn't injured that time. They couldn't go through that again so John had to hide, fast.

They may have been able to hide his injury if Mrs Hudson only stayed for a short time but there was no way of knowing how long she was going stay.

"My room then," said Sherlock, guiding John in the direction of his room, hands on his shoulders.

John grabbed his laptop off the table as he rushed past; he didn't know how long he'd be in there for.

"Remember, be quiet," said Sherlock and then he turned, closing the door behind him leaving John in the bedroom of the world's only consulting detective.

"Boys?" Mrs Hudson called again.

"No, just me, John had to go to work," lied Sherlock.

"I thought I heard voices, talking to your skull again?" chuckled Mrs Hudson. "When will John be home?" she continued, "I thought this was his day off?"

"It was but someone called in sick so he had to go in and he won't be back until late."

"That's ok, I'll keep you company until he gets back then."

John groaned inwardly. He had been listening to the muffled conversation through the door and realized that he may be stuck in Sherlock's room for a while.

He turned, looking around Sherlock's room and found the only place to sit was on Sherlock's bed or on the floor.

He decided to sit on the bed and opened his laptop, planning to write up yesterdays solved case, when he looked down and saw that the laptop only had half an hour of battery left. He groaned again realizing his charger was in the other room. Once his battery had run out he'd have nothing to do until Mrs Hudson left.

John wrote up as much of the case as he could before his battery died. He then placed his laptop on the bedside table and began looking around Sherlock's bedroom.

He didn't go into the cupboards or anything, that would be an invasion of privacy although he was sure Sherlock would go through his personal belongings if he had the chance. Sherlock _had_ in fact gone through John's personal belongings but it still wouldn't feel right going through Sherlock's.

He gave up looking realizing there was nothing of real interest around and dipped his hand into his pocket to pull out his phone. Maybe he could get Sherlock to bring him his laptop charger and also some food, he was beginning to get hungry.

With a third groan he realized that he didn't have his phone with him. He tried to think back to the last time he'd had it and remembered he'd lent it to Sherlock the previous night and Sherlock must still have it.

John decided with nothing better to do he'd take a nap. It was already late afternoon and he was feeling rather worn out despite having slept through half the morning. The previous case had lasted over a week and sleep had been sparse, especially with Sherlock around.

John lay down on Sherlock's bed, feeling a little uncomfortable at first about where he was lying, but as he closed his eyes, surrounded by the smell that was distinctly Sherlock, he felt himself relax and drift off to sleep.

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AN: Next chapter is going to be Sherlock's point of view of while John is stuck in his room and you might possibly find out the reason behind Sherlock's strange behaviour plus they do still need milk. Thanks for reading and reviews are again much appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed/favourited/alerted/read the previous chapter(s). It does really mean a lot. Originally this was going to be 4-5 chapters long but I'm going to extend it to 6. Sorry for the shortness of this and the previous chapter, I was originally going to write them together but decided to split them into two separate chapters. Sorry if this wasn't what you were expecting but I hope you like it.

John gets injured and Sherlock decides to take care of him.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

* * *

Sherlock was now stuck in the living room with Mrs Hudson and he was trying to think of the best way to get her to leave. Mrs Hudson said she would keep him company until John got home but with John already home and in Sherlock's room it was a problem.

"No, that's quite alright Mrs Hudson you don't have to stay, I'll be fine by myself."

"No you won't Sherlock," replied Mrs Hudson, "last time John went out you shot my wall again. I'm not leaving you alone this time," and with that she walked into the kitchen to make tea.

"You're out of milk," said Mrs Hudson after she had searched the bags on the kitchen table and in the fridge and Sherlock groaned. John wouldn't be very happy when he found out that they had forgotten the milk.

"Be a dear and run down to my flat and grab some then I can make us some tea."

"Go on," she continued, when Sherlock hadn't moved, "I'll start unpacking these for you."

Sherlock turned, mumbling something under his breath and Mrs Hudson just chuckled, shaking her head.

Sherlock returned with the milk as Mrs Hudson was just finishing putting away the groceries.

"Thanks dear," she said, taking the milk from Sherlock, heading back into the kitchen to finishing making their tea.

Sherlock sat down in front of his microscope, reviewing the results from his most recent experiment.

Mrs Hudson placed his tea beside him then made her way into the living room and made herself comfortable on the couch. She wasn't about to leave Sherlock by himself again, she knew how bored he got and didn't think her wall could stand another shooting.

After about an hour Mrs Hudson put down the magazine she had been reading and wandered into the kitchen where Sherlock was still working on his experiment.

"How about I fix us some tea then?" asked Mrs Hudson, she was beginning to grow hungry and knew Sherlock wouldn't have had much to eat recently.

"No, I'll just wait for John to get home and we can order takeout," said Sherlock, shaking his head.

"Nonsense," replied Mrs Hudson, "it's not healthy to eat takeout all the time. I'll save some for John, you two both need a proper meal after your last case."

Realising that she wasn't going to take no for an answer, Sherlock grudgingly agreed.

She then disappeared downstairs to gather some ingredients. She would cook in John and Sherlock's flat since it was probably best not to leave the man alone which gave Sherlock a few minutes to duck into his room to check on John.

The door creaked as Sherlock opened it and looking around his eyes fell on the sleeping figure of Doctor John Watson on his bed.

That was all Sherlock could take. He quickly turned and left the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He then stopped, breathing heavily, and leant back onto the closed door trying to calm himself. Why was he feeling like this?

It had all started the night before when John had hurt himself. It was ridiculous, John wasn't even seriously injured, nothing life threatening, but that hadn't stopped the worry that had filled Sherlock's chest seeing his friend lying on the ground.

He usually managed to push these feelings down but this time he just couldn't no matter how hard he tried. He'd never felt this way before he had meet John so it was strange to want to protect and care for someone as much as he did for the older man.

His breathing was now slowing but he couldn't get the look of John's sleeping face from his mind. The peace and vulnerability he had seen on John's face made him want to reach out, put a hand on his cheek, to let John know how he felt, even if Sherlock didn't exactly know himself.

He tried to clear his mind of all thoughts of John, but it was no use, there was just no way around how he felt about the man currently sleeping on his bed. These feelings were part of the reason why Sherlock had been acting so strangely since the previous night and he knew that John had noticed too, even if John didn't understand why Sherlock was acting the way he was.

Sherlock could hear Mrs Hudson moving around in the kitchen and he took a few deep breaths before walking into the kitchen, past Mrs Hudson and into the living room, collapsing onto the couch. He closed his eyes, placing his hands to his mouth, he had a lot to think about.

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AN: Next chapter is again going to be Sherlock's point of view but more about what's going on inside his head and don't forget the milk. Thanks for reading and reviews are again much appreciated. I hope you liked it.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed/favourited/alerted/read the previous chapter(s).

Next chapter, at this stage, is going to be the last. Not sure when it'll be up but hopefully in the next few days. I started back at university today so I'm going to have less time for writing now but I'll do my best! I hope you like it!

John gets injured and Sherlock decides to take care of him.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

* * *

Sherlock lay there on the couch, hands still together, against his mouth and he thought. He thought about everything. He thought about what his life was like before he'd met John and how his life had changed when John had arrived, about the look of amazement in John's eyes whenever Sherlock made a brilliant deduction, about how his pulse would quicken whenever John entered the room.

All Sherlock could do was think, he had to figure out what to do now since realising his feelings towards John were certainly more than platonic.

He took a deep breath, trying to arrange his thoughts. He had to decide whether it would now be better to keep these feelings to himself or let John know how he felt, but was it worth risking their friendship?

Sherlock sighed exasperatedly, he had no idea what he was going to do.

There wasn't just figuring out whether or not to tell John how he felt but also _how _to tell John how he felt. Sit him down and talk to him? Grab him by the collar and just kiss him? And there was also the possibility that John didn't feel the same way which meant it could ruin their friendship.

All of this was too complicated, _I wish I'd never even_ _met…,_ Sherlock stopped mid thought. No, he could never think that, meeting John was the best thing that had ever happened to him and he would never change that.

He leapt up from the couch, causing Mrs Hudson to glance at him curiously from the kitchen, and he began to pace around the living room, hands combing through his hair, trying to organize his thoughts.

Since last night Sherlock had been acting differently, and he was only just figuring out now what it had meant.

"Of course!" he half yelled, now spinning excitedly around the room, arms waving about, and giving Mrs Hudson a fright.

He'd finally figured out the reason he had apologized for John's injured leg and then again for not getting the milk. Even at the time Sherlock had found it strange he'd apologized, it had just slipped out, but he had dismissed that feeling. It was because of John, he realized, he'd only done it for him. It had been something that Sherlock assumed John had wanted to hear and Sherlock had unconsciously said it.

Sherlock didn't know exactly what that meant but all he wanted to do was make John happy, although, he didn't know if apologizing was the way to do it.

Sherlock had never been in this situation before, where his actions could affect someone else emotionally. There was Mycroft, but he hardly counted, Sherlock's actions towards his brother were usually just to annoy him. Sherlock didn't like to think John's happiness relied partly on him but what Sherlock had observed said it did.

He took another deep breath, taking a seat back on the couch, with Mrs Hudson now watching him.

"Everything alright, Sherlock?" she questioned, with a concerned, motherly, look on her face.

"Fine," mumbled Sherlock, although he felt anything but fine, he could feel the panic swelling inside him.

Mrs Hudson watched him for a few more seconds before sighing, shaking her head and turning back to the food she was preparing. She wished John would come home soon.

Sherlock decided that he had to tell John, he may not be as smart as Sherlock but John was definitely above average. John had already noticed Sherlock's strange behaviour and it might not take him long to figure out why.

Just deciding to tell John made him nervous all of a sudden, but also a little excited, he wanted to know how John would react.

So now Sherlock had decided to tell John he had to figure out how. How do you tell your best friend that you think you might be in love them when there is the possibility that they don't feel the same?

Sherlock lay back down on the couch, hands once again to his lips and he closed his eyes. He must have been deep in thought because Mrs Hudson had called his name three times before she gave up and walked over to the couch to gently shake the man's shoulder to get his attention.

"Working on another case are you? Tea's ready," said Mrs Hudson, once she had woken Sherlock from his thoughts.

"A case? No," replied Sherlock, "and no thanks, I'm not hungry."

"Sherlock, you will get up here and eat something. It's not healthy to eat the way you do."

"But Mrs Hudson, I'm busy," responded Sherlock, somewhat childishly.

"Now," said Mrs Hudson, more firmly, causing Sherlock to reluctantly rise from his place on the couch and take a seat at the table.

They ate in silence, Mrs Hudson glancing up every couple of minutes to make sure that Sherlock was eating. She thankfully noticed that he had almost finished his plateful but he declined when she offered him more. John would at least be glad Sherlock had had something to eat recently. Next step was to get the man to sleep. She could see he was tired, probably hadn't slept since his last case yet, and would have only got a few hours of sleep during the case at John's request. Sherlock was definitely lucky to have someone like John to take care of him.

After tea, while Mrs Hudson cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, Sherlock returned to his position on the couch, he had more thinking to do.

John would've been happy that he had had something to eat. He was usually the only person that could get Sherlock to eat but Sherlock, despite what others thought, did care for Mrs Hudson and knew she would worry if he didn't eat so he had at least eaten something.

Sherlock thought back to life before John. He had eaten even less and got much less sleep. The path Sherlock had been heading down hadn't been a good one and John had saved him, just as Sherlock had saved John when he returned home from Afghanistan. They had both found something they didn't even know they were looking for.

"Don't forget you're out of milk Sherlock," Mrs Hudson called from the kitchen.

_Milk! Of Course!_ thought Sherlock as he leapt from the couch, he had just had a brilliant idea and it was all thanks to Mrs Hudson.

He grabbed Mrs Hudson and pulled her into a tight hug before releasing her slightly to plant a kiss on her cheek.

"Mrs Hudson, you're an absolute genius," cried Sherlock, obviously excited about something but Mrs Hudson had no idea what.

He released his grip on Mrs Hudson but he still had a ridiculous grin plastered on his face.

"Well I better be off to bed then, big day tomorrow," said Sherlock before kissing Mrs Hudson a second time and bidding her goodnight, leaving Mrs Hudson to stare confusedly after Sherlock.

Sherlock heard Mrs Hudson leave the flat as he closed the door to his own room. John was still lying asleep on his bed but he had shifted to a more comfortable position and was now partly under the blankets.

Sherlock hadn't really thought this part through. He was feeling rather exhausted after their previous case but he could've told Mrs Hudson that he was sleeping on the couch. Would it be weird if he lay down next to John? What would John think in the morning? He didn't want to go back out into the living room out of fear that Mrs Hudson would come back if she heard him moving around. After quickly deciding he'd prefer not the risk Mrs Hudson coming back his only other option was to lay down beside John, although he doubted he'd be able to sleep with John so close, his heart was already beating like crazy.

Before lying down he pulled the blankets properly around John so he wouldn't get cold and then took his place on the other side of the bed. The minute he lay down the first thing that hit him was John's smell. John must have lay on Sherlock's pillow at some point because the detective could smell the familiar scent of John by his face. He inhaled deeply reveling in John's presence. Unbeknownst to Sherlock, John was feeling the exact same way only hours ago.

Sherlock felt his eyes closing and his tiredness consumed him, but he felt comfortable in the knowledge that John was right next to him, and that night Sherlock had one of the best sleeps he had ever had.

* * *

AN: Finally next chapter = the milk! Thanks for reading and reviews are again much appreciated and I hope you enjoyed it!


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed/favourited/alerted/read this fic. You guys are awesome. It makes me so happy when I see an email saying someone has reviewed/favourited/alerted anything I've written so thanks :) You guys make my day!

Anyway here's the last chapter. Sorry it took this long to get this one done but here it is. I hope you like it and let me know what you think! Thanks again to everyone who read this. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

Someone just pointed out that John would have said "sod it" not "screw it" so thanks for that and it has been changed. If anyone notices any other mistakes feel free to let me know.

John gets injured and Sherlock decides to take care of him.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

* * *

John slowly opened his eyes, sun streaming through the curtains. Something was different, he realized, and he got a fright when he figured out what it was. He was lying not in his bed, but in Sherlock's. On top of that he could feel cool fingers intertwined with his own.

He had just had one of the best night's sleep he could remember and for some reason, even if it was slightly scary, it was comforting to be this close to Sherlock. He was then shocked at the thought that had just crossed his mind.

He quickly sat up, pulling his hand away a bit too roughly which woke up Sherlock. Their eyes met, Sherlock still lying down while John was now propped up on his elbows. John could see a small smile playing on Sherlock's lips and quickly, before his own smile grew too big, he turned away and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

John tried not to think too much about what that meant. He was beginning to get more embarrassed by the situation he now found himself in. He was in bed with Sherlock! And they both woke up smiling at each other! What did that even mean?

He could hear Sherlock climbing out of bed on the other side and was making his way around the bed as John stood up. He stumbled forward after putting too much weight on his injured ankle only to fall into Sherlock's arms, again. John can't help but now think about the strong arms holding him up and how much he actually liked that feeling.

He felt himself blush again, these types of thoughts were getting more and more frequent.

He looked up, Sherlock's eyes now staring directly into Johns which only made him blush more.

"Sorry, thanks," mumbled John, still staring into Sherlock's eyes, for some reason he couldn't tear himself away.

Before John, and possibly even Sherlock, knew what was happening, Sherlock had leaned down, closing the small gap between them, and placed a soft kiss upon John's lips. Sherlock pulled back after only a couple of seconds before he turned, after making sure John was steady, and left the room quickly, saying something about John going back to bed and that he'd go make breakfast for them.

All John could do was stare after Sherlock. Words couldn't describe how shocked he felt at the moment. Firstly because Sherlock had just kissed him and secondly because of the electricity that had coursed through his body as his lips had come into contact with the consulting detectives. He was now even more confused than before.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the sound of banging and crashing coming from the kitchen before he heard the door opening and closing downstairs meaning Sherlock must have gone out.

John moved backwards to sit back down on Sherlock's bed. Now John's thoughts wandered to what the detective must've been thinking. He had no idea what would possess Sherlock to do such a thing as kiss him. An experiment maybe? No that can't be it, or else Sherlock would never have left the flat, he'd either be on the couch thinking or in the kitchen working on the results. So then why? Was it possible that Sherlock had feelings for him? No, that couldn't be it either and the words "married to my work" sprung to his mind again.

He heard the door open and close again, Sherlock was back. John stayed where he was, not sure what to do, stay in the room or go talk to Sherlock about what had just happened between them.

"John, breakfast," Sherlock called not long later, and John felt his heart rate quicken at the sound of Sherlock's voice but he wasn't sure if it was nervousness or anticipation that had caused it.

With no time left to sort out his thoughts, John stood up and made his was slowly to the kitchen, using his cane for support. He was shocked at what he saw before him. Sherlock had cleaned up the _entire_ kitchen, not an experiment in sight and laid out on the table was two plates with jam and toast on them with two steaming cups of tea. Two plates? Was Sherlock going to eat too?

"Sherlock...I...what's all this for?" John asked, stumbling over his words then gesturing around the kitchen and towards the table.

"John, I just want you to know how sorry I am for what happened and you should know that I'm never going to let it happen again," Sherlock replied, with a sad but serious look on his face.

The meaning of those words hit John like a sledge hammer and he knew that those were the words he didn't want to hear, and suddenly all those strange thoughts that had been occurring in his mind recently all made sense. They had just been his subconscious trying to tell him something, something he think he may have known all along, that he was in love with Sherlock. Thinking about it now it was hard to believe that he hadn't seen it before.

He made up his mind then and there to be honest with Sherlock, now that he had realized his feelings he didn't think they would be easy to forget or force down inside him and it wouldn't take the detective long to figure it out either.

"What if I want it to happen again," John mumbled, not making eye contact with Sherlock.

"What?" asked Sherlock, looking thoroughly confused which was a first for the detective, "You want to be injured again?"

This time it was John's turn to look confused.

"That's what you're apologizing for?" John replied after a moment's pause which he had used to collect his thoughts.

"Of course. Look John, it's my fault you were in that situation in the first place, or any situation where you are in danger for that matter. Just knowing me has put you in danger and for that I am truly sorry. If anything were to happen to you because of me I could never forgive myself."

Now it was Sherlock who was avoiding looking at John and now Sherlock was blushing also, another thing John had never seen the detective do before.

John took a step towards the detective causing Sherlock to finally make eye contact with him after his little speech.

"Meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to me, it saved my life, and I wouldn't change it for the world and don't you _ever_ forget that," said John, looking into Sherlock's eyes, willing him to understand the absolute truth in his words.

Sherlock could tell by the look in John's eyes that he had meant every word and couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips.

"Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me too," replied Sherlock, causing John to mirror the smile on Sherlock's face which had grown into a full blown grin.

They both started laughing and John made a move to sit down at the table beside him but Sherlock's words stopped him.

"Hold on, you didn't know what I was apologizing for to begin with, so what did you think I was saying sorry for?" and even as the words left his mouth, Sherlock's eyes widened in realization. John thought he had been apologizing for the kiss? Then John's words came back to him, "What if I want it to happen again". John wanted to kiss him again?

A sharp intake of breath from Sherlock at this realization caught John's attention. This time is was Sherlock's turn to take a step forward bringing them a few inches apart. Both John and Sherlock could feel their own heart rate increase at the closeness to the other.

"I…ahh…" John didn't know what to say but was now terrified of how Sherlock was going to react.

"I got the milk," said Sherlock, suddenly stepping back excitedly to open the fridge to show John that he had in fact bought some milk.

"We got that at the shop yesterday, didn't we?" replied John, now confused by the sudden change in the conversation.

"No, I forgot it yesterday," Sherlock replied, flashing John a quick grin, hoping he wouldn't be mad, "But I went and bought some more this morning for you."

So that was where Sherlock had gone, John realized, remembering hearing him leaving the flat. _But why would Sherlock go out of his way to get the milk when he could have just as easily borrowed some from Mrs Hudson or made him go out and get it, _John thought, _that was very unlike Sherlock_.

Sherlock shut the fridge and walked back over to where he stood before, this time slightly closer to John causing John's heart rate to increase again.

Sherlock now knew that John had feelings for him, as evident by his comment, but now Sherlock had to let John know that he had feelings for him in return. He thought buying the milk would show John that he loved him, buying milk was seriously out of character for Sherlock and he wouldn't do it for just anyone, but apparently he was going to have to make it clearer. His plan hadn't included the kiss from that morning but being that close to John had changed his plan. He hadn't even known what he was doing when he leant down and kissed John, his body had worked independently of his mind, and then upon realizing what he was doing, he had panicked and left, although he regretted the decision to leave immediately.

Right now Sherlock wanted nothing more than to reach down and close the distance between them but he restrained himself this time. John had been obviously shocked by his actions last time and wanted to know for certain that it was what John wanted.

John didn't know what was happening to him. He wasn't gay, he was completely straight and yet all he wanted to do was reach up, grab Sherlock's face, and kiss him again. If you had of told him last week that a week from then he would be standing in the kitchen of 221B Baker Street fighting with himself on whether or not to kiss Sherlock he would've called you crazy but here he was and he wouldn't have had it any other way.

Deciding to just do it, Sherlock had kissed him earlier that day so he thought he should at least return the favour, John thought _sod it, _and reached up, pulling Sherlock down to his level and pressed his lips firmly against the younger man's.

John didn't expect Sherlock to respond with such enthusiasm as he felt arms wrap around his back.

"I love you," Sherlock mumbled into John's lips causing John to pull back and look into the detective's eyes, he then smiled and whispered, "I love you too," before reaching up to kiss Sherlock again.

Mrs Hudson chose that exact moment to walk into the kitchen where she stopped and grinned at the sight before her eyes. She was only coming to see if John had returned home from work and that the flat was still in one piece. She turned as silently as she could and made her way back down the stairs. Neither of the boys noticed, they were too distracted by what they were currently doing. All Mrs Hudson could think as she left was that they were finally, _finally_, together.

The End.

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AN: It took me a while to actually figure out how to end this, I had a few ideas so I hope you like the idea I finally went with. Anyway again thanks for reading and reviews are again much appreciated and I hope you enjoyed it!


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